CHAPTER 27
When she got to the Tidee-Mart, Mary Dell wedged Howard’s car seat into the upper rack of her shopping cart and talked to him as they wheeled up and down the aisles, picking up objects and holding them close to his face so he could see that apples were red and peppers were green, brushing his little hand with the feathery tops of orange carrots, opening his curling fingers and rubbing the smooth, firm skin of a half-green banana along his palm.
At the checkout counter, Mary Dell continued her monologue with Howard, repeating the names of items as she piled them on the counter: diapers, baby wipes, Dr Pepper, MoonPies, beef jerky, and bananas.
“Because woman does not live by MoonPies alone, Howard. We just wish we did.”
When her basket was nearly empty she heard a familiar voice, a voice like green apples, sweet at the bite but sour to the chew—the voice of Marlena Benton.
“Well, speak of the devil! If it isn’t Mary Dell Bebee! Diamond and I were just talking about you, weren’t we, Diamond?”
“Yes, we were!” Diamond Pickens giggled and shot Marlena a meaningful glance.
Diamond, Marlena’s cousin, was secretary of the Women’s Club. She was also Marlena’s sycophant-in-chief. This was, of course, an unofficial title, but as does any sycophant worth her salt, Diamond took her duties seriously. It was rare to see Marlena without Diamond dogging her heels and even rarer to hear her express an opinion contrary to her cousin’s. Mary Dell felt sorry for Diamond, who was dumb as a watermelon and ugly to boot—not very sorry, but a little. Marlena, she just despised.
“And here you are—Mary Dell Bebee. Or have you gone back to calling yourself Templeton now?” Marlena sighed. “Bless your heart. I heard that your husband walked out on you.”
“Yes. There’s a lot of that kind of thing going around,” Mary Dell said. “Don’t know what’s wrong with men these days. Irresponsible. Guess their mommas aren’t raising ’em right.”
Marlena smirked, trying to pretend she didn’t understand the insult. Mary Dell smiled sweetly, making it clear that she was not fooled by Marlena’s pretended obtuseness.
Marlena craned her neck to look at Howard.
“I heard about your baby.” Marlena clucked. “Such a shame. That sort of thing runs in families, doesn’t it? I mean, I always thought your daddy was a little . . . well . . . never mind.” She sighed. “He does have pretty eyes. That’s something, I suppose.”
Mary Dell’s neck turned red, and she felt the fingers of her right hand clench involuntarily. She wanted with all her heart to plow her fist into Marlena’s smug, lipsticked mouth and follow it up with a left jab directly at the bridge of her thin, pointy nose, but she restrained herself. Howard was too young to be exposed to that kind of violence. Besides, in the unwritten rules of verbal warfare among women, it is well known that the first one to lose her temper also loses the battle. Mary Dell wasn’t going to give Marlena the satisfaction.
Mary Dell opened her wallet and looked at the clerk. “What do I owe you?”
“Six dollars and eleven cents, ma’am.”
“Shoot. I’ve only got five-fifty. I’m going to have to run by the bank.”
“Maybe you ought to put the MoonPies back,” Marlena suggested in a sickly sweet tone. “Might help you take off some of that baby weight.”
Mary Dell turned to face her foe.
“Maybe,” she said with an icy smile, “but I’m still breast-feeding. It makes you awful hungry. Of course, you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Seeing as you’ve had Jack Benny feeding off you for thirty years.”
Marlena’s eyes blazed and the veins on her neck bulged.
“Well! Maybe if you and that sister of yours could manage to hold on to your men, you’d have enough money to pay for your groceries!”
Mary Dell picked up the beef jerky and handed it back to the clerk, who deducted it from the total.
“True,” she said in the sweetest possible tone. “It will be harder to make ends meet now. But I’ve got an idea how I can make more money than a porcupine has quills. I was thinking that I’d buy Jack Benny for what he’d bring and sell him for what you think he’s worth.” She smiled brightly. “That’d do the trick, don’t you think?”
Mary Dell looked at the clerk, who was working so hard to keep from laughing that his face looked like a blister ready to pop.
“That’s all right. You can keep the change,” she said, then wheeled her groceries and baby right out the door.
“That probably wasn’t the smartest thing I ever did,” Mary Dell said to Howard as she secured the seat belt around his seat and tugged to make sure it was tight enough. “Marlena holds a grudge longer than anybody I know. But I couldn’t help myself. I don’t care what people say about me, but anybody who talks mean to you or down to you had better be wearing an asbestos flak jacket, honey! Because I’m going to come at them a hundred miles an hour with my hair on fire and guns blazing! That is the way it is and the way it’s going to be!”
Howard blinked at his mother with innocent eyes. Mary Dell laughed and kissed him on the nose.
As they drove out of town, she said a prayer, asking God to look down from heaven, find a spot of peacock blue, and steer her to it. Or, barring that, toward something or someone who would help her family, fill their gaps, and teach her how to shoulder the burden.
“Take the wheel, dear Lord. Show me the way.”
She drove north and took highway 84 to Waco, but instead of continuing west when she got there, she felt a sudden urge to take the ramp to 35 North and did so, figuring that having asked for divine direction, it would be rude to resist. She drove north to Fort Worth, then west again through Wichita Falls and Childress, then north across the Oklahoma line, driving as long as she could between Howard’s insistent cries, then pulled into the parking lot of the nearest gas station or burger joint to feed him before setting off again. It was slow going with a baby on board.
When she crossed the Kansas border, well after dark, she was exhausted and Howard was howling. The Bluebird Motel promised clean rooms and free local calls, and so Mary Dell pulled into the driveway and checked in for the night.